


A Study in Veridian

by irons_acre



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Convergence, F/M, Major character death - Freeform, Many Guns, Sauron is trying to merge middle earth with 2018, Sauron wants nukes, Tenth Walker, added dimension to the quest, and perhaps some bombs, borrowed plot from Thor: The Dark World
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 13:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15774822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irons_acre/pseuds/irons_acre
Summary: Retrospectively, she knew she was asking to be thrown into an alternate universe. She was a physicist, after all. What she hadn't been asking for was Sauron, a Convergence, and a bloody arrow digging into her neck. Also elves. She thought elves were a lie.





	1. The Discovery

When Jane woke she was under a strange moon in a strange land, but it had not always been that way.

xxxxxxxx

The day had begun much simpler than it had ended. She had woken early, dressed, eaten, and driven to work. Sort of. Technically, she wasn't really employed, but Jane liked to think differently. And freelance research was a job, wasn't it?

Jane was a physicist, but she spent most days in her lab, making notes, sometimes travelling, not really speaking to many people. Today, however, she was making a special trip to a secret government site. After that, of course, it was straight back to the real world. Today was her birthday, and her aunt had organized a nice outing for Jane and her cousins. 

Not that Jane was looking forward to it. In the past, September 10th had been the best day of the year, more highly anticipated than Christmas, but it didn't feel as special anymore. It was the date of The Crash, the one that left Jane parentless and owner of a multimillion fortune. Her mother had also left her the family business, but Jane had little talent for it.

Jane supposed she was happy. She certainly had many reasons to be so; for one, she had her aunt, who tried her hardest to keep Jane afloat from the opposite side of the country, and her best friends, Jack and Sofia, who lived only a few minutes from her home. But the matter of the fact was that Jane felt pent up, distracted, and more often than not, lonely. It was true that she had people she loved and who loved her in turn, but nothing seemed to quell the ache in her heart after losing her parents. 

Perhaps she'd never have noticed, had it not been for her job. Because when Jane was like this, chasing adventure, the unknown, the unconquerable, every aching cell in her body was quiet. It was this, the chase, the knowledge that though the universe was large and expansive and untameable, she had somehow become privy to its movements.

Of course, it hadn't always been this way. Jane mostly explored the universe from a research perspective, but she was famous in her local physics community for a particularly fantastic paper on Einstein-Rosen Bridges.

The _real_ fun began about a year ago, when strange disappearances were reported all over the country. People walking on trails and suddenly vanishing, and appearing a half hour later screaming about elves and wild horses and swords. The first cases were deemed loony cases, but later it happened in London, Norwich, Dundee, until the cases went to the double digits. Some of the disappearances never ended in reappearances – and the sites of them were always changing. Sometimes the declarations were less of magical creatures and more of other impossible things; wolves where wolves were not supposed to live, ponies in the middle of a city, giant waterfalls in the middle of a dying wood. What had convinced authorities of its seriousness were the gravitational anomalies that seemed to take place around certain sites. That was when the government had gotten involved, and Jane had been roped into it.

As far as she knew, they'd been doing a good job of keeping it hushed up. But it was only matter of time before it got out of hand – who could compete with randomly appearing wormholes? Especially when it became children that were going missing, wandering one minute in their garden and turning suddenly, only to vanish into thin air? The government decided it wasn't a good thing, and the more holes that turned up, the more Jane was inclined to believe them.

It didn't stop her from being prepared, however. She had packed two hiking bags in the car – one full of toiletries and food, the other full of spare cargo pants, shoes, shirts, socks, a camera, and her notebooks. And some poetry. If she was going to get trapped in some alternate universe, she figured she'd at least be able to comfort herself with Nerdua. She might have been a little crazy, but it didn't matter – no one knew what she was doing; she'd been forbidden to tell. And if things took a turn for the worst, she'd organized her will, too.

As midday approached, she neared her site. It was rather remote, as most of the sites tended to be, and closer to the coast. The road was wedged perilously between towering rock beds covered in fencing but she didn't worry too much – she was on an in and out trip, investigating a gravitational anomaly, not an active wormhole.

Jane drove the Jeep off road, down a narrow little path to the foot the decline and wandered in a little until the vehicle was more or less covered by the forest. A few feet ahead she could see diagonal bars marking the security entrance and pulled up, rolling the window down when the Official walked towards her.

"Reporting?" She asked.

Jane pulled out her ID Badge and driver's license. "Jane Holney. Sector 32. I'm headed to vantage F a little way in".

The officer nodded and handed back the IDs, along with a walkie talkie. "Everything's been set up for you. You're covered for the whole perimeter. You used one of these before?" At Jane's confirmation, she nodded and jogged back to the outpost to lift the bar, giving her a thumbs up. Jane drove a through the thickets on the cleared path until she reached an almost-clearing – it was big enough for her to park the Jeep but not much else. She pulled out her reader before jumping out, debating a moment whether to bring her bags – but this was supposed to be quick, and there were no holes anyway. Instead she punched in the coordinates and fished out her notebook. On principle, the anomalies weren't hard to find – it was when gravity failed to follow its own laws and instead warped. It was this: Jane walking for about 5 minutes and dropping the reader after tripping on a stray root and, instead of seeing it falling straight at her feet, watching it curve mid fall and make a thunk against the base of the tree.

She paused, blinked.

Picked up the reader and dropped it again. Watched it hit the tree instead of her toe, and then thought, _magic is real_. It was this: Jane dropping her phone, her pen, her hair band, one after the other and picking them up and thinking, _the world is big and full of secrets and I am looking at one right now_.

Of course she knew anomalies could exist. Seeing one in person was something different, something more exciting and terrifying than she had truly anticipated. It was a good five minutes before she remembered why she had come, and another three before she had jotted the information in her notebook and bothered to check her reader, which was flashing. She paused again. The readers were only reacted when the anomaly was large enough to indicate a wormhole – not when there wasn't one. But the area had been checked before, and there were cameras posted in the trees to track activity and – the site was safe, she had been assured that much. _Faulty reader?_ She thought, and then frowned, _no, unlikely_. She wandered further on, left and right, in a circle and then backtracked to the Jeep, but the reader remained flashing. She had just taken out her phone when the leaves rustled behind her.

A normal occurrence, certainly. Except there was no wind. There hadn't been any wind all week, actually, and the heat wave warnings had barely lifted anyway. And then came a distant crack, like a branch snapping, that sent her scrambling. If anything happened to the Jeep –

But as Jane burst into her semi-clearing, nothing was amiss. Only, the reader's flashing took on a frantic tempo, and her phone was glitching, and the leaves were moving past the Jeep at a steadily increasing rate and Jane's curiosity was outweighing her survival instinct. She made a note in her book and shoved her pen behind her ear before jumping in. The leaves were light – whatever was pulling them would have to be much stronger to uproot the Jeep, but Jane was considerably lighter than a motorized vehicle so she didn't feel like taking the chance.

But first, she pulled out her walkie and voice recorder, hitting on before buzzing the station. "This is Holney, over".

"Station F, over."

"The anomaly is definitely here, but I think it's feeding off of something bigger. Permission to proceed further?"

There was a momentary pause. "Permission granted. Mind the road ahead and be cautious of the cliff on the other end."

"Clear," Jane replied. "Although I don't think I'll be going that far."

She switched gears and made her way cautiously onward, taking note of the distance she was going. As far as she knew, the forest went along a shoreline, except it was about 600 feet above the ground and poorly fenced. At least until last week, when the government had swooped in and cleared the area, closing trails to the public and establishing a perimeter under the guise of "maintenance". It was the knowledge that she was being watched that made Jane feel safe enough to proceed, although she should have known it was useless from the beginning, in hindsight. Because just as the trees thinned enough for the sea to be noticeable, the car began to shake and the gears locked. Jane frowned, noticing how quickly the leaves were being drawn to the cliff's edge. Peering closely, she could see little branches and sticks being dragged off the same way and spoke into the voice recorder.

"This is Holney speaking", she began. "I'm at vantage point F along the North Sea. It's 12;45, September 10th, 2018. Gravitational anomaly at Point F confirmed, although I think there's a bigger issue at hand. I'm about 500 meters ahead of Point F and something is pulling the leaves out towards the sea. My gears are locked, and the car is shaking." She repeated this into the walkie.

"We read. Stay stationary, someone will be over to assist you."

"No," Jane fired, more sharply than she intended. "Please, wait a few minutes. It might be the effect of -- " the car suddenly groaned, and then shuddered. "Wait! I'm moving!"

"The gears have unlocked?"

"No," she said again, this time a little breathlessly, "no, the car's gliding along the road only – I'm not pushing the accelerator..."

"Are you on a decline?"

"Negative. The ground is even, but –"

The car began to shake in earnest. Jane whipped her head up to see the tree tops, which had now begun to tilt forwards, their leaves being torn from the branches.

"Holney? Come in."

"Holney, over. Don't send anyone. I repeat, do not send anyone. The climate is getting hostile."

"Can you give us a picture?"

Jane opened her mouth to reply, but at that moment one of the branches from the tree broke off with a sound like thunder and was immediately swept forwards, crashing into another tree as it went. She felt the Jeep's glide speed up. "Something's wrong. It's like something's pulling things forwards – like gravity, like" --- her mind scrambled --- "black holes; their gravitational pulls drag matter into them, right? A tree branch just broke – I don't think it's safe for people to be out here--"

"Holney, can you back out?"

Jane tried to shift into reverse but the stick wouldn't budge. "Negative. Gear's still jammed – I'm pushing the break but it's not working." The car groaned again. "Station, do you have a clear shot of me?"

"Negative. The camera was on the branch that broke off. The Jeep's front is in the field of the next closest one. Holney, are you strapped in?"

"Yes. Listen – the reader's going mad. It's – it's like one of the holes is near, except we don't have one around." Jane suddenly felt a jolt in her stomach. "Affirmative?"

"Affirmative. Is the car still moving?"

"I'm approaching 15 mph. My foot is off the accelerator, I'm pumping the --- shit!"

Jane was suddenly thrown violently against the steering wheel. The walkie slipped from her hand, but that was the least of her issues – one, two – no, three branches up ahead broke off and were whipped away. The leaves had stopped their accelerated glide and were now being vacuumed violently, blowing all over the place, and the Jeep began picking up speed, moving faster and faster, towards the cliff.

Jane began swearing. "Approaching cliff, going a steady 30 mph. About to jump out--"

She threw her seatbelt off and grabbed her notebook, but as soon as she opened the door it was flung away , and Jane recoiled with a shriek, hitting the gear shift with her back. The wind was positively howling around her – she'd be lucky not to be whipped into a tree at this rate. She thought hard. If the car hit the water, she would be able to break the windows and swim out, but if she hit the water and the car hit _her_ , there would be trouble. Not to mention the unsheltered impact of the fall. And – well, if she were being honest with herself, what if this was a wormhole? It wasn't a big stretch to make – wormholes were essentially pairs of black holes on opposite ends – the space between them was like a portal, allowing travellers to move through it. The gravitational pull around them would certainly account for the trees breaking, and the car moving the way it was. And if it was a wormhole, she didn't fancy being squashed by the car once they both fell through it. Another gust sent the door flying towards her and she locked it as soon as it clicked back into the frame. She'd made up her mind.

Jane grabbed the walkie, and, despite her burst of excitement, she couldn't help but feel a little panicked. "Station, the Jeep's not slowing down. I can't get out of the vehicle – the tree branches are flying and the pull is too strong --- I think – I think we've got one, we've got a wormhole --"

"Holney, if that's a wormhole, you need to get out!"

"Negative! I'm going through unless it suddenly stops it's formation. I'm not risking getting squashed to death. Listen. The holes stay open for anywhere between 2 to 5 minutes at a given time, but don't send anyone until you notify Sector 32. Clear?"

"We do not have the authority to engage with the wormholes!" Came the garbled reply. Jane snorted.

"Tell that to the hole, Station. I'm going in."

"Holney--"

But this was where Jane's memory began to dim, because the car suddenly seized and then was whipped – honestly whipped – right off the cliff in a sudden burst of speed, and flew right into the air. She remembered being airborne over the sea and somehow thinking to put on her seatbelt, before the car seemed to hit some invisible barrier, and she knocked her head against the steering wheel before the world went dark.


	2. The Encounter

Her head was throbbing.

It was the first thought that entered her conscious mind, first a quiet whisper, but soon growing stronger and stronger -- strong enough to drag her into the present. Jane let out a quiet groan and cracked open her eyes, focusing on the familiar sight of the steering wheel in front of her. She took in a ragged breath -- which meant she hadn't hit the sea.

Everything was quiet.

Slowly, she lifted her head and waited for her eyes to focus. Among the first of her realizations was that she was in another forest, and that her windshield was completely shattered, and so where the back windows. She was not bleeding anywhere other than the nasty gash on the left side of her forehead, but through the front mirror she could see the faint but definitive beginnings of bruises on her cheekbone and nose.

All things considered, she'd been pretty lucky; she could've been at the bottom of the North Sea and woken to the sight of pearly white gates (and probably the Jared Leto version of Jesus), or the silhouette of God.  _Then_ she would've been in trouble.

Well. Not if it was Jared Leto.

But for the moment she was alive...if something didn't pop out and kill her first. Jerkily, she took off her seatbelt and looked around.  _The Jeep's off_ , she realized, and then nodded.  _Accounts for the silence_. In the passenger seat she found her notebook and the voice recorder, and groped around in the dark until she located her walkie and the reader. The reader was dead, meaning the hole had closed. She tried the walkie but all she got was static when she pressed the button. It would be better to keep it on her, though; she suspected that it had the potential to work if the hole re-opened. From the glove compartment she grabbed a torch and then shoved open the door.

 _Forest. Jeep. Wormhole. Station F. Sector 32_ _._ She repeated the information as she wobbled out. Her head was still aching badly but she didn't think she was concussed or seriously injured, though she was sure there would be a nasty bump on her head if she didn't ice it. Tentatively she took a step, then another, and another, testing her legs and balance and then being relieved she could walk in a straight line. She looked down at herself, touching her arms and thighs and then her face -- everything was in tact. Her bones hadn't been crushed. Her Jeep was still mostly okay, but she wasn't in the UK anymore, that much was certain. Who falls off a cliff bordering the Sea and doesn't fall  _into_ the Sea, but into another forest instead?

Jane assessed the damage around her. Surrounding the foot of the Jeep were the leaves and sticks that had been pushed through the hole before her, but she couldn't see the tree branches or anything else. Perhaps they'd fallen farther out? She made note of this in her notebook, promising herself to check out the perimeter in the morning, when she could see properly. Given the damage to the Jeep, Jane supposed she'd fallen straight down from the sky; it accounted for the shattered windows. As she walked around it, she noticed that the front bumper was severely dented, and one of the headlights cracked. While she couldn't fix the headlight, finding some metal parts to fix the bumper shouldn't be too hard. If this world had a car repair shop, that was an added bonus.

In any case, she'd been right -- the intense pull had been the result of a newly opening wormhole.  _But_ , she thought, looking about the forest,  _why would a wormhole randomly open and lead_ here  _of all places?_ And how did the wormhole not crush her? Her car was made of flimsy material, not what they'd make spaceships out of if they were going to put astronauts through Einstein-Rosen Bridges.  _But then again_ , she thought,  _no one else had been crushed to death either_. Actually most people said they didn't feel anything funny at all, they had simply been walking and then found that they were in a forest, or in front of a waterfall, as if they'd walked through an invisible barrier into some strange new world. A world they didn't yet know the name of — just that it apparently contained elves.

Jane seriously doubted this. Mostly because there was only  _one_  guy who claimed to see elves, and then a week later his friend claimed he saw a dwarf — while they were on national television. In fact, they went around selling their stories to almost every blogger and news outlet, and the Sector had to get involved. It was far more likely that they were looking for money and fame.

Anyhow, it seemed to be the middle of be night, wherever she was. If it was still September, it had to be around 11 or 12, but as she looked around Jane realized that for so late in the night there seemed to be quite a bit of light in the area, and looked up at the sky -- only to have the air knocked out of her lungs. Because atop her head were millions of stars that seemed to be pulsing with life -- and amidst them all, she could see the moon, which looked bigger and brighter than it ever had in Brighton. Of course Jane had seen her share of starry nights in the country, but this was something else entirely. Never had the sky been so clear and visible from the ground; nor had the stars ever shone as brightly as they did then -- and as her eyes traced their patterns, her heart stuttered madly in her chest. She knew that spread, that great expanse in the middle...and if she was right...

Jane let out a coarse laugh and ran to the trunk, ignoring the sudden ache of her ribs. She had to know, but to do that she had to get out of the trees to see the sky. After rummaging around Jane pulled out the little gift bag she'd prepared for her cousins, filled with little glittery yarn balls and beads of all shapes and sizes. The girls had gotten into making gimp bracelets and Freya specifically had developed a keen interest in knitting, despite the teasing of her sister.

The sudden memory of the girls stilled Jane's hands. She was supposed to meet them for her birthday dinner that night. She was going to give them their gifts and they were going to watch her as she put on her makeup, and they would lay heavy compliments on the dress she was going to wear, and her aunt and her husband were going to drive to a fancy restaurant and hug her and wish her well. Jane felt ashamed at her eagerness to and excitement. Would they be looking for her, did they know she was gone? And when she didn't turn up that night, or the next night, and perhaps the night after that, would her aunt, who had lost her sister and her parents in one night, would she be thinking , in some other part of the galaxy, that the final part of her family that belonged to both her and her sister had been lost too?

 _But I'm not going forever_ , Jane mouthed. And she wasn't -- she wasn't planning on it. But they  _needed_ to have someone pass through the wormhole. And if this was the right place, if this world is where are the wormholes led, then she could at least find out  _why_ before getting back. And another hole had to turn up somewhere. It was just a matter of tracking them. Jane was a scientist, she would be able to get herself back. And she was going to get valuable information while she was at it. They only had so many chances.

Momentarily satisfied, Jane began unravelling the yarn. If her hands trembled a little as she tied the loose end to the Jeep's mirror, then she ignored it. Keeping her torch half tucked into her fanny pack, she made sure to shove her gadgets into her pant pockets before setting out, holding the yarn ball delicately in her left palm.

The forest wasn't nearly as big as the one she'd left behind, but the trees were much thicker and more imposing. Jane got the feeling that it was very old, much older than the UK, and certainly older than a century. But if that was the case...what if she was stranded in the middle of nowhere? What if there wasn't a village or town or city for another day? She only had snack foods, and even if she wanted to hunt anything she didn't have a gun or knife on her, nor anything to make a fire with. She wasn't even carrying money; something had told her that wherever these wormholes led, it wasn't to a region of the galaxy that accepted Euros and pounds. And the Jeep only had so much gas in it -- she didn't really fancy leaving it behind.

It turned out most of her worries were needless though, because in less than five minutes she had reached the border of her little forest and immediately looked up, only to let out a gleeful laugh.

Jane would have kissed the sky if she could, because far up high, to the east, was the tell-tale spread of the milky way galaxy. Wherever she was, this at least was familiar, this was home.

Grinning with relief she didn't know she wanted to feel, she looked down at her surroundings. Straight ahead of her was a beautiful settlement, built upon a rise and surrounded in part by a waterfall, which, at the hour, was illuminated by moonlight.

Actually, it looked a lot like Rivendell from the  _Lord of the Rings_. Jane told herself to stop being sentimental.

Shaking her head, she assessed her options. To go on foot wouldn't take her long, but her head was still throbbing and all her supplies were in the Jeep. Carrying all that stuff by hand wouldn't be impossible, but it was dark and she was hurt, and the Jeep would have to be moved eventually. She squinted and moved up a little, to the edge of the cliff, glancing down. There was a bridge not far from where she was standing, and she was on a footpath right now. It was just wide enough for the Jeep to fit, though the trip would be a little perilous, especially in the dark. At least she had her headlights to help her.

Making up her mind, Jane walked back, rolling the yarn line as she went. She had almost made it when she heard a branch snap behind her. She whirled around, grabbing for her torch and raising it, ready to hit anything if it ran at her.

"Who's there?" She called tentatively. Nothing answered.

Jane peered closely at the shadows, her finger hovering over the  _on_ switch. Part of her wanted to use it, but there was something uncomfortable uncoiling in her stomach. She felt using the torch would only draw attention to herself and get her in trouble. Hastily, she rolled the remaining yarn and half ran to the Jeep, strapping herself in and fishing around for the keys. She checked her surroundings one last time before turning on the ignition, wincing at the sound it made against the still silence around her.

It started for about 5 seconds and then died out. Jane cursed, tried again.

"Come on," she murmured, turning the key slowly. "Come on love, come on..."

On the third try, the engine came to life properly and Jane relaxed.  _Back in the game_ , she thought, and cautiously made her way out of the forest and on the narrow, stone littered path, wincing whenever the Jeep hit a hard bump or whenever her torso was jostled too roughly. She'd have to get her ribs checked at a hospital soon.

When she'd made her way to the bottom, she positioned the Jeep towards the bridge and slammed the breaks.

There were two tall statues at the far-most end, guarding the entrance. The Jeep would fit between them, no problem, but Jane had misjudged the bridge; it became much too narrow in the middle for the vehicle to pass without teetering over into the water. Which meant Jane had to either find  _another_ opening into fake Rivendell, or leave the Jeep and walk on.

It ended up not being much of an issue though, because someone made up her mind for her.

"Halt!" Cried a voice. Jane started badly and tried to peer out the window, but there was a flash of gold and she felt something pointy digging into her neck. Freezing, she glanced at herself in the mirror and her mind stopped.

 _Is that a fucking arrow_  was the only coherent thought she managed to have, because she then glanced at her assailant and went,  _is that a fucking_ elf _?_

"State your business, woman," came another voice. This one was from  _behind_  the blonde —not gold — elf pointing his bow at her. To her utter amazement (and dread) another elf, much leaner and with much darker hair, emerged from behind her Blonde Assailant. She saw that he too was armed with a bow and arrow, which he had fastened and held downwards, ready to be used.

Jane stared at both of them for a moment. Delirium must have come over her, because she looked to the Blonde elf and thought,  _you look familiar._

"Okay," she said slowly. "Right. Gentlemen, there's on need for the...weaponry. I'm sorry if I've wandered into a...private game of sorts. I'm lost, and I'm a little hurt as well. I only came down to look for some help, and a place to spend the night.

"This is no game, woman," said the Blonde elf. "What does a mortal seek in Imladris?"

Jane's eyebrows shot into her hairline. "Sorry?"

"What is your business here, mortal?"

"I -- look, mate. My name is  _Jane_ , not  _mortal_ or  _woman_." She scowled at him. It was one thing to do cosplays and LARPING and whatnot, but for God's sake, it was surely midnight and these idiots were out pointing weapons at passersby and speaking so  _degradingly_.  Jane had just fallen through the sky. She had a headache and some messed up ribs and she felt suddenly and inexplicably  _tired_. "I don't appreciate being made fun of, especially not at this hour. So why don't you and your friend take off your costumes and your bloody pointy ears and take me to --"

Suddenly the Blonde's eyes darkened. "You mock us, though you ask for our aid." He brought the arrow closer suddenly, in a movement so swift Jane barely had time to process it, jabbing it none to gently against the junction of her shoulder and neck. She felt it pierce her skin and yelped, but even as she backed away his weapon followed.

"All right, all right!" Jane said hastily, alarm rising within her. Those weren't fake weapons, if the blood staining her blazer was anything to go by. "Please, I don't mean any harm. I don't know where I am. I came through --" she halted.  _Through a hole in the sky? "_ A path," she said. I pulled my Jeep onto the road because I didn't feel up to walking the distance. Please, I'm lost, I need help." She really  _was_ disoriented now. What were these idiots playing at? Who carried  _bows and arrows_ as actual  _regular weapons_? What kind of alternate --

Jane's eyes widened. She thought,  _no, NO, no fucking way --_

"You lie," the brunette said suddenly.

Jane snapped her head towards him, dazed. "What?"

"You came through no path, mortal. We have watched you and your...contraption, and you are not of our land, or any settlement near to us. What are you? From what foul corner of the black lands have you come? I would have you speak!"

"I -- " Jane's brain scrambled for something,  _anything_ , but all she could think of was how they were calling her 'mortal' and saying things like 'black lands'. "I don't --"

"Enough!" The Blonde snarled. "Open this door and show yourself, or I will have no choice but to shoot!"

"Sir, please," she said, now panicked, "there's no need --"

An arrow flew past her ear and out the passenger window. Jane jerked and felt her mouth fall open, but then felt something stinging and reached up. When she drew her hand away from her ear, it was stained red.

She understood the message: she was not to be killed, but if she didn't cooperate, they wouldn't hesitate to  _make_ her.

"All right," she said as placatingly as she could, although her voice wobbled. "All right, I'm coming out. I'm not armed," she added, showing them her hands. But then she hesitated. It was easy to jump to conclusions, but Jane wanted to be sure...

"Before I come out," she said, trying to steady her heart, "May I please know your names? I expect I'll learn them sooner or later anyhow, but if you're going to arrest me I'd like to know exactly  _who_ is jailing me."

The brunette elf was the one who answered, and he spoke very slowly to communicate his point: "My name is Elladan, and here is Glorfindel, the fiercest and strongest warrior of our race. Above us is Elrohir, who waits, heavily armed, should your compliance falter."

Jane let herself shake. She pulled the keys out of the ignition. She thought,  _If I die tonight it'll be at the hands of fictional characters._ She thought -- she didn't know  _what_  she thought. She wanted to lay her head on the steering wheel and scream.

Instead, she made a show of putting the keys on the dashboard before opening the door and stepping down, closing it with her hip.

Glorfindel --  _fucking Glorfindel --_  immediately began speaking. "Give your true name, and tell us your intent in Imladris."

"My name is Jane," she said repeated, not bothering to hide how shaken she was. "My intent is to see a -- a healer, as soon as possible. I harbour no ill will."

"From where do you come?"

Jane bit her lip. Even if she hadn't brought the Jeep, her game was up. Her clothes alone made her stand out like a sore thumb, and as soon as they found her camera and phone, she was done for. She would have to be honest, but...she wouldn't give herself away entirely.

"I am not from these parts," she began, still chewing on her lips. "I -- I'm not sure what happened to me." She made her voice small, using her exhaustion and fear to her advantage, slumping her shoulders. "Please. I was driving -- that is, I was in my ca -- contraption --" she motioned to the Jeep beside her -- "on the road. I was going to see my family, when suddenly I woke here, in the forest."

Elladan considered her. "You speak the truth, but only a version of it."

Jane looked at him, making her eyes wide. She had to convince them she was innocent — that meant looking sweet and lost, didn't it? A part of herself became hysterical, screaming  _you're in a storybook!_ But she pushed it down, tried to focus. She tried to soften her face; she had a strong jaw that her father always said was set stubbornly, and while her cheekbones weren't very prominent, they were just enough to make her face look hard. Her best mate, Jack, said she radiated hostility, and on a good day, she was merely intimidating.  Her mother alway told her  _soften your eyes Jane, and lower your chin, and the children will come play with you darling, I promise._

Something seemed to work, because the brunette elf tilted his chin, conceding to her, although his eyes narrowed. 

The blonde spoke again. "You carry goods with you, in your..."

"Jeep," she said nervously.

The blonde's lip curled a little, as though the word was foul to him. "In your Jeep, then. Bring them out for us to see. I caution you not to give into rashness," he said, his tone becoming dangerous, "for you will be dead before you think to land your blow."

Jane thought,  _I don't have any weapons_ but said, "I understand."

She opened the trunk and hauled out her hiking bags, the gifts, and the rucksack containing the dress and shoes she was planning to wear to dinner, thinking fast.  _If_ she really  _was_ where she thought she was, there was nothing  _they_  could do to help her. Her best bet was to get to -- to --

 _Bloody hell_ , Jane thought, not wanting to say the name, even in her head. This was absurd, absolutely absurd. To think those TV hooligans had been right, to think that this was actually  _real_  --

"Please," she said, although she knew the answer already, "could you tell me where I am?"

The Blonde's eyes narrowed. "You are in Imladris. In the common tongue it is called Rivendell, the Last Homely House east of the Sea."

Jane let her knees wobble and collapsed into a sitting position on the Jeep's trunk. Her head was now pounding worse than ever.  She had been prepared for wormholes, alternate realities, even to end up in a different time altogether. But this was something else. This was  _Lord of the Rings_ and her best bet was to go see  _Lord Elrond_ in the bloody city of  _Imladris,_  and she was sitting here talking to elves who wanted to kill her and probably thought she was Sauron's spy, if "black lands" was anything to go by. She teetered forwards in a daze, but a hand reached out and caught her shoulder.

Elladan's face swam before her vision.

" _Mellon_ ," he said, and Jane realized after a beat that he was speaking to Glorfindel, "Although I feel she is hiding her full story, I do not believe her to be dangerous."

"A babe's voice is sweet," came the reply, "until it silences its mother."

 _That's unfair,_ Jane thought.  _Complications at birth are hardly the_ baby's  _fault._

 _"_ All day we have watched her, and she has done nothing threatening. Her wandering, the string — they are all signs of someone who is lost."

Glorfindel replied in another language, elvish probably, but Jane couldn't remember the dialects from the books. She kept thinking. That they had been watching her wasn't nearly as aggravating as knowing they'd decided to leave her soaked in blood the whole day.

Her mind began racing. So multiverses existed -- but not  in the way she'd made herself believe. Instead of being an alternate world for people's unmade choices, this multiverse reflected a fictional world. It was like Tolkien created it when he wrote his books...did this mean Narnia existed as well? Neverland?  _Harry Potter?_ And then, which version was it? The books or the movies? Did the extended editions get their own universe? Or did this universe reflect a combination of all the possibilities? And if  _this_ was where the wormholes led, then why?

The only answer Jane could come up with for this question was that there was something else going on -- or there was some _one_ capable of producing wormholes. Jane knew the villain of this story. If  _he_ was also real, things weren't looking so good for the 21st Century.

Which brought her back to her original issue. If she wanted answers to anything, she had to see Elrond. There had to be other cases of people wandering randomly into Middle -- 

 _Jesus Christ I don't want to say it,_ Jane thought. She wanted to laugh but couldn't quite get it out of her throat. She knew science was only going to get her so far.

She pondered her options. The elves were locked in a heavy debate. Her best bet was Elladan, who seemed less edgy and less paranoid than the Glorfindel. Their argument could go on all night, but Jane needed to see a doctor or healer or  _someone_. The last thing she needed was for her head to get infected, and she didn't fancy contracting tetanus from that damn bloody arrowhead. Besides, if she started out as the poor damsel in distress, they might even go easy on her. And on the off chance that this wasn't real, she would simply wake and live her life in the morning. Praying hard to whatever God ruled this part of the universe, Jane reached forward and pressed her shaking fingers against Elladan's hand.

"Please," she whimpered pathetically, noting the abrupt pause in their speech, "my head, it hurts so much, and I think I've done something to my ribs, too. I promise I'll answer your questions, but I need a healer. You-- you can throw me in a cell if you like, just," Jane let tears fall onto her face, "please, can I see someone?"

Glorfindel muttered something in elvish under his breath, and Jane had a strong feeling he was supporting the cell idea.

Elladan crouched down to her level and looked at her, hard. "You will come with us to Imladris. The Lord of the house, Lord Elrond, will attend to your injuries."

Jane understood the double meaning of the words and let her hands tremble. "Thank you," she said wetly.

"However, you will bring your bags with you, as well as the stick you carried earlier. The keys to your" — he said it haltingly — " _Jeep,_ as well as your bags, will remain with Lord Elrond until the morrow. These are the terms I offer you."

Jane nodded. "I accept," she rasped sincerely, and let herself be helped into a standing position.

They took off, Elladan in the lead and Glorfindel behind, with his arrow pointed steadily at her head. The elves shouldered her bags, permitting her to keep her fanny pack and the rucksack with her dress, though she suspected they would be taken from her shortly. She supposed it wouldn't be a bad idea to have them see her gadgets; if anything, it would prove what she would eventually have to tell Elrond, although she wasn't going to utter a word about the books or the movies or even indicate, verbally or not, that she knew anything about Sauron or Middle Earth. But there  _was_  something she needed to know...

She cleared her throat. "Excuse me, Elladan, can you give me the exact time and date?"

The elf turned his head slightly. "We are in the 9th month of the common calendar," he replied, "and are now approaching the first hour of the 10th day."

"I was...how long was I in the forest?"

"We believe you arrived an hour or so before midnight."

It had been just past noon when she'd been sucked in, but she'd arrived at what, 10? 11? So this world functioned faster...no, slower than theirs, if it was 1 am on September 10th...in any case, she'd definitely missed the dinner, and her aunt would be worried by now.

"You said you were travelling to visit your family," Elladan said. "Are they acquainted with your whereabouts?"

"No," Jane said, voice small again. "They'll be missing me, I think."

"Do you see them often?"

Jane squinted at Elladan's head. "No. Perhaps once every fortnight."

"It is odd," said Glorfindel. "For an unmarried woman to live away from her parents."

Jane felt a pang but didn't answer, choosing instead to wrap her blazer (now stained with blood) around her torso — and then wincing when she squeezed her ribs.

The walk didn't look long, but it took a turn for the worst when they stopped it front of the archway and Elladan produced a blindfold. Jane looked at it dubiously, but she had promised to comply, and truth be told, she didn't fancy being thrown in a cell for the night, no matter how doe-eyed she was acting.

She stood perfectly still as he wrapped the blindfold around her, wincing when it brushed against her bloody ear. She felt one of them take her arm -- it had to be Elladan; Glorfindel would have gripped her harder -- and lead her onwards, occasionally announcing stairs or turns. Jane stumbled and jostled her ankle but bit back her curses and commentary; she had no doubt that Glorfindel still had his arrow pointed at her head. Finally, they came to a halt and Elladan knocked thrice on the door. There must have been a reply because he opened it, and as soon as they were inside he removed the fold from her eyes to reveal a firelit room, stacked with books and scrolls and in the middle, to the right, was a large desk and chair seating none other than Hugo Weaving.

Except Hugo Weaving looked much younger, his face fuller and shoulders broader than the film version had made him out to be. He was regarding her with a raised brow and a calculating expression, with his elbows resting on the table and his hands folded together. In the moment, he reminded her so strongly of her father that her mind went blank.

"Lord Elrond," Elladan began, but the rest of his speech was lost in a whir of Elvish syllables. Jane did happen to catch her name, however.

"So I can see," Elrond replied, using English. Jane frowned a little at him. So she was to be included in the discussion of her fate? Did that mean she managed to look small and unassuming? "Glorfindel, please, lower your bow. Had she been capable of harming any of us, I suspect she would have done so by now."

Glorfindel began to speak in Elvish again, no doubt recounting their encounter and the bags she'd pulled from the trunk. Jane looked around and took a deep breath, once again trying to collect her thoughts.  _First I'm going to tell him about the holes_ , she thought. After that, easing him into the "I'm-from-another-world" story would be easier, and later she could fully explain the nature of her bridges. She had the Jeep and her cell phone and voice recorder as proof, but really, to believe Orcs could make something like this up was insanity anyway.

But before she could finish her plans, Lord Elrond addressed her directly.

"Lady Jane," he called. She looked at him, taken aback at the title. "I believe first we must address your injuries. You have suffered a severe impact to the head and bruising of the face, and I suspect no small amount of shock." He brought himself to his full height and looked at the guardsmen. "Let me tend to her," he said. "You may wait outside."

"My Lord -- " Glorfindel started, but Elrond replied in elvish, and whatever he said made Glorfindel frown, but he went with Elladan to wait outside the doors.

Once they were gone, Elrond considered her openly, eyeing her clothes and the bags she was holding. Finally, he said, "We will attend to your head first, if you would have a seat."

                                                                       xxxxxxxxxxxx  
  


"Einstein-Rosen-Bridges," she repeated, this time pronouncing the words slowly so he'd understand. Patching her up had taken a little less than half an hour, and it turned out she had no broken ribs, just some bad bruising from her seatbelt and the impact her torso had made with the steering wheel. She would've liked to have been shown to a bedroom, but Elrond demanded answers.

Jane had started small, giving him her age and full name, trying to ease him into the discussion at hand. But before she could even mention that she studied science, he'd given her a long look and said, "You are not of Middle Earth."

Jane had blinked in surprise, but then something like hope bubbled up in her chest. "You've met more people like me?" She asked eagerly. "Are there others here in Rivendell?"

Elrond didn't frown, but it was a close thing. "No, I am afraid not. However," he said, watching her face fall, "There have been strange occurences of late, tales of men and women wandering into small settlements, out of forests and into lakes, inquiring of far-off lands. Yet they never seem to stay more than a few minutes at a time, perhaps a day at most, before disappearing again. You are from the same land as they?"

Jane nodded, and he carried on. "You are the strangest wanderer of whom I have heard. You came in your metal carriage, with these bags," he nodded to the far corner, where Glorfindel and Elladan had returned them, "and Glorfindel tells me instead of panicking, you tethered yourself and began exploring, almost as if you expected to be brought here, like you had planned it."

So Jane had cut straight to it, telling him of the strange disappearances that were happening on her end, too. She told him about how they thought the men were lying, but soon more and more people had gone missing and turned up with similar tales, how their government had organized a team of individuals to study the areas and find out  _why_ they were opening and where they led. Which led her to explain physics to him, and her role in studying wormholes.

"It's a fairly new theory," she was saying, "it's less than a century old. But it remains a theory instead of a law because we never found  _proof_  of wormholes anywhere, on land or in space. Basically two men named Einstein and Rosen theorized that there were ways to shorten the time needed to travel from one point to the other in space."

"When you speak of space," Elrond interrupted, "You mean the cosmos, the land of the stars."

"Yes," she said. "And the cosmos, it's  _huge_. It may take decades to travel from one planet to the next."

"You mean to say, that in your land, men have travelled out of this --  _planet_  -- into another?" He sounded perplexed. Jane smiled.

"I know it seems impossible, but the place I'm from has extremely advanced technology. Of course we had carriages and swords in the past, but as time went on new inventions were made, and the carriage was replaced by the first automobiles -- things like my Jeep -- and swords were replaced with machines called guns, that made wars much deadlier." She glanced at the scrolls on his desk. "May I show you?"

Elrond gave her a quill and ink pot with her paper and Jane was suddenly struck by  _where_ she was.

"I suppose you have stationary more advanced than this," Elrond mused, noting her expression.

Jane cleared her throat, pushing her thoughts down. "Sort of. But anyhow -- this is the basics of what we know of our galaxy." She drew a ball in the middle of the page. "The biggest component is the sun, which we place in the center. There are 8 planets and 3 dwarf planets, which are basically planets but very, very small. The first is Mercury -- " she drew a ball -- "then Venus, and then us, Earth. We are the only known planet with complex life forms, like ourselves - elves and men and dwarves. Behind us are the other planets, Mars, Ceres, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto. Behind Pluto is Eris, but I don't know much about it. So say we wanted to get from Earth to Saturn. The average time it takes for an unmanned craft to reach the planet is 5 years. If there was a wormhole" - she drew a black dot near earth and one near Saturn - "then it creates a bridge or sorts." She drew a line to connect the two. "We travel along this line, this manipulation of spacetime. It takes us 2 years, shortening the journey."

"So you believe this is what connects Middle Earth and your world," Elrond said, holding the paper up to the light.

"It's the only explanation we have, and the best bet, really. When the bridge opened on my side, there was a forceful pull that dragged me through it -- along with a bunch of tree tops and leaves. It's characteristic of what we believe a wormhole would be like, and they've been all over the country."

"And everyone is forced through?" He asked.

Jane frowned. "No. Most people who disappeared said they felt nothing strange; they just took a step and ended up elsewhere. I think  _I_ was dragged through because  I happened to be there when the hole first opened, whereas everyone else just wandered into an already existing one."

"But this -- "

"Solar system --"

"This solar system," he repeated, "how do you know middle earth shares it with your world?"

"Well for one," Jane said, "When I first came out of the forest, I saw the stars above the waterfall. They're the same stars I see from my world. On a clear night like last night, you can see the darkened center and the spread of stars along the belt. It's what we call the Milky Way, the name we gave our galaxy. So I believe we're still in the same vicinity, just in another reality." She took a breath. "Also, I don't think Middle Earth and the place I come from are seperate."

Elrond looked well and truly surprised. "You believe you are from here, but in another time?"

"Not exactly..." Jane hesitated. This was the tricky part. "Where I'm from, Middle Earth is known as Midguard, which literally just means "middle earth." Midguard is...it comes from mythology," she settled. It was partially true. "Before we had modern society, united lands and kingdoms, there were people called the Vikings, or Norsemen, who believed the Midguard was made after a great battle, from the body of a giant and whatnot, and then humans were created, etc etc. But we don't call it Midguard anymore --" ( _if we ever did,_ she thought) -- "we call it Earth, like the planet I just drew."

This was mostly correct. But if she was sticking to the idea that Tolkien created his universe, the real story was that Tolkien made it out of the Norse myths and Sagas and used a lot of their mythological components, such  _as_ elves and dwarves, to make his Middle Earth. But the idea had come from Midguard, and if Midguard was just the mythological way of saying Earth, then they were the same place in an alternate reality, where Tolkien's world existed on  _her_ land. 

"The correct way of saying it is to call Middle Earth an alternate reality, or universe," she said. "I definitely don't mean to say -- nor do I honestly  _think_  -- that over time, it'll eventually evolve into where I'm from. But my world and yours are on the same field, just--different ends." She bit her lip. "You should know...in my world...we don't have elves and dwarves. I honestly believe we never did. They exist in our folklore, especially where the Norsemen were from, but other than that, they're made up. And even in folklore, they don't look the same as you do. They're rather small, deceitful creatures, intent on pulling pranks and causing mischief. They live in the depths of the forest and are sometimes wicked, and they dabble in strange magic and -- well, you get the picture."

She found Elrond looking at her steadily. "So then tell me, Lady Jane, why is it that our worlds have suddenly begun merging? Have your studies uncovered the cause?"

Jane blinked at him. "Well, no. I was hoping you'd be able to tell me that."

"You truly haven't the faintest idea?"

"Sir, wormholes have never been seen before," Jane said. "The most we've done is create fake ones in labs, but they're only the beginning. And even if we were to understand  _that_ , they're not like natural wormholes. Actually, wormholes aren't even supposed to connect alternate realities, they're supposed to connect us to what already exists in  _our_ reality. And even if they  _were_ for crossing realities, why appear now? There's no huge event happening in my world. No major moons, no comets coming across the sky, absolutely  _nothing_ to give reason for them to pop out of nowhere."

Elrond sighed, and Jane felt suddenly that he looked very tired, and very, very old. She had a suspicion he was afraid of hearing she had no explanation. She was reminded again of her realization only hours ago, about Sauron being the villain of this story, about how, if Elrond couldn't explain this in a way other than "the world as we know it is ending", things really weren't looking good for the modern age.

"Lord Elrond," she said hesitantly, "You know why they're opening, don't you? But you...you were hoping I'd have another reason."

He closed his eyes for a moment. "There are dark days ahead," he murmured, which did nothing to help the sinking feeling in Jane's stomach. "There are things moving beyond our sight, things we can no longer account for with our knowledge or our history." He looked at her tiredly. "is there a way you can return to your world, Lady Jane?"

"Theoretically, I would go through another wormhole from this end," she replied, noting he evaded her question. "Except they only stay open for about 2-5 minutes at a time, and I don't know how to predict them yet. But I don't want to go back until I have some kind of information, because we haven't been able to get anyone from Sector 32  _in_ a hole and back out. This is the best shot my world has in preparing for whatever is happening."

"You say 'theoretically'. Are you not sure how to return?"

'Well...the funny thing is, we've yet to receive a report of strange people coming into  _my_ world. It's rather odd...I mean, if we're coming in, why isn't anything from the opposite side coming out? It's not that I think I'm stuck here," Jane said hastily, "I just wouldn't be surprised if I was met with some resistance, that's all."

"But the others came back just as soon as they left."

"Yes, but they came back through the same hole they went into. And there  _are_ people who haven't returned yet. They may still be stuck here."

Elrond leaned forwards. "You say that nothing from Middle Earth has come out. Is this why you believed the men speaking of elves and dwarves to be lying?"

"In part. We figured that if they made contact with other people, those people would have followed them through the hole. They came back without proof. But again, no one believes elves and dwarves actually exist."

"And the people who are still lost, do you plan on finding them? To bring them back?"

"I don't know." Jane slumped against her chair, suddenly tired all over again. She rubbed her eyes and tried to suppress a yawn. "I only have a list of their names -- all my other files are in a debriefing package at home. I don't know what they look like, where they disappeared, how long they've been gone...but I don't want to leave them," she said softly. "A lot of these people are ordinary folk. They don't study wormholes or alternate universes...they've got families that miss them and think they're dead, and until someone else from the Sector comes through, I'm their best bet."

The thought was extremely daunting.

Lord Elrond was silent for a few moments as he looked at her.

"Very well," he said eventually. "What is it you plan to do?"

"Well, I need somewhere to stay before anything. I was hoping to go back to the forest tomorrow to assess the area and pick up any information I can...after that, it's less clear. None of my communication devices work, and I don't know how to track the holes, or  _why_ they're appearing in the first place." She gave Elrond a pointed look. "If you have anything to offer, I would appreciate it."

He sighed. "I admit there are several reasons I can think of, but none of them I can voice with any certainty."

"There has to be  _something_ ," Jane said pleadingly. "At least tell me if this has ever happened before, or if you have another way of explaining the wormholes. My explanation is science, but do you have something better?"

He grimaced. "Magic."

Jane let out an unsteady laugh. She knew that she must be in the same timeline as Frodo, if it was September here on Middle Earth. "What, like Cinderella?" She tried to smile. Like  _Sauron_? "Someone's pointing a wand and saying 'bibbity bobbity boo' at the void, and the void is listening?"

"I will not say anything more on the matter," he said firmly, watching Jane splutter. "There are others who have better understanding of these things than I, and if it will placate you I will contact them."

"Hang on! You can't say something like 'magic' and then leave me hanging! Who's doing magic? Wizards? Witches? And are they on our side or not?"

" _That_ is less clear at present," Elrond admitted. "But you are correct in guessing Wizards harness magic. The elves may sometimes entertain it, but our magic is of a more... _refined_  nature, whereas a Wizard's magic is more raw, more elemental."

Jane buried her face in her hands.

"I can't believe I'm here," she muttered. "Of all the possible multiverses, we end up attached to  _Middle Earth." I never thought I'd actually_ want  _to meet Voldemort, but at this point, I'll take him,_ she added silently.

"There is one who may be able to help," Elrond said haltingly. "An old friend of mine. He sent word that he would be arriving in Imladris later this month. Until then, you wished for a place to stay," Elrond looked at her. "I suppose you wish to stay here, in Rivendell."

"Only for the time being," she said. "I -- I want to do research, and develop my notes. At least until you're in contact with whoever, so we can compare theories and come up with something."

She found Elrond nodding. "I think your presence would be beneficial. We may learn more about the world you come from, and you may learn about this one."

"I'll need a library and access to archives...and I also don't have any money," she said. "Is there work I can do? I can stitch pretty well, and I've been a bartender in the past, so I can wait tables --"

"Money should not be an issue yet," Elrond said. "You may reside in the West halls, close to the archives and my study. You may join myself, Elladan, Elrohir, and my daughter, Arwen, for meals. Should you wish to purchase anything, notify me and we will make arrangements." He glanced out the windows. "But for now, sleep. Dawn is approaching. Once you are sufficiently rested, the forest is yours."


	3. The Search

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is very late, but I hope everyone likes it! Thank you so much for all the kind comments to far!

The next morning was confusing and disorienting. Jane had been given a room of moderate size, with its own toilet and balcony, and a maid, of all things. 

She didn't like sleep. When Jane slept, her mind stopped its running defenses and simply existed, allowing dreams of every caliber to take over. Before the accident, it wasn't anything to worry over, but after...Jane would close her eyes and in no time see her dead mother and father, the grotesque injuries covering their bodies, the burnt flesh, and worst of all, their ghosts: ghoulish figures standing over the bodies, their skin discoloured and filthy, covered in blood, wailing in despair and agony.. 

So, if Jane had it her way, she would've spent all of last night exploring Rivendell and checking the archives. But Elrond had given her a potion thing, some vile tasting Benylin substitute, to "ease her aches and speed up the body's healing." She'd barely managed to shower before it knocked her out. 

Now, Jane was sweaty and resigned, barely registering the light hitting her face. As the dream released her, she heard a distant knocking on her door and forgot, for a moment, where she was.

When she opened her eyes she was in a white room, with white curtains and white sheets made of something like silk. The balcony door was open, and through it she heard the birds singing, and the distant sound of water running below.  _ I'm not dead _ , she thought, wiping her brow,  _ but am I alive _ ? She sat up slowly in bed and looked down at herself. She was wearing an old fashioned nightgown with quarter sleeves. Jane kicked off the covers and thought  _ aha _ ! No wonder she was sweating; the gown was long. Some seconds ticked by until two and two connected -- she was dressed strangely because she'd fallen through the sky, and she was in.....

She suddenly grimaced and touched her ear. Sure enough, the bandage was still there. She touched her abdomen gingerly, pressing and then wincing.  _ Bruises. Wormholes _ . 

The knocking came again. 

_ Elves _ . 

"Coming!" She called, getting out of bed and pressing her hair down. It was probably the maid, Miluiel -- Jane scrambled to the door and cracked it open, looking curiously at the elf in front of her. 

Miluiel was jarringly beautiful, her fairness undimmed by the plain work clothes she wore, and more stunning in the light of the morning. Her hair was light brown like Jane’s, and she had a strong brow, but unlike Jane her hair seemed to move with her rather than around her, and her brows seemed perpetually filled without the aid of a pencil. Currently, it was wrapped into a knot at the base of her neck, and there were two braided strands pinned behind either ear. When Jane opened the door she bowed her head and smiled. 

"Good day, my Lady." Her voice was smooth and light, gentle and pleasing. Her smile too was sweet, and Jane felt suddenly very young, and extremely at ease.  Unwittingly, she let the stiffness go from her shoulders. "It is almost noon now. I came to wake you earlier, but Lady Arwen said you needed your rest. She and Lord Elrond will dine soon, before the hour is up."

Jane let herself be rendered speechless for a few minutes. Coming to the acceptance that Elves were real last night hadn’t been too life-altering, in her tired and bruised state, but now that she was awake and well rested, she felt hot and hysterical all over again. 

“You’re real then, aren’t you?” She asked Miluiel in a strained voice. “I’m really not dreaming? Elves are real?”  _ I was proved wrong by a bunch of fame-seeking nutheads?  _

Miluiel’s smile faltered a little. “No -- no, my Lady, you’re not dreaming. I -- I am indeed real.”

“I suppose I’m still in Rivendell, then?”

“Yes, my Lady.”

“And Lord Elrond? He’s real? And I’m in Middle Earth?”

“Yes, of course.” Miluiel looked a little alarmed. “If you need more rest, my Lady --”

“No, no,” Jane sighed, resigned. She opened the door a little wider. “Please, come in.” 

Miluiel hesitated for a moment, but eventually bowed her head and entered. She looked around her for a bit, and Jane realized she was holding clothes in her hands -- a gown, actually, made of lilac fabric.

Miluiel followed her gaze and smiled. "For after you wash," she said. 

"Well, actually," Jane said, wringing her hands, "I'll need to wear pants for the day. I um, I'll be trekking into the forest...Can I change into the gown later?"

Miluiel looked surprised, but nodded. "Do you know what time you will return, my Lady?"

"Erm, in the evening, probably. When is dinner?"

“At six, Lady. You will dine with Lord Elrond and his children.”

Jane nodded, letting her shoulders slump a little. “Yeah, that sounds about right."

  
  


                                                            xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

By the time Jane had washed and let Miluiel braid her hair, it was time for lunch. As they were walking over, Jane could see her glancing at her from the corners of her eyes. 

Miluiel had found Jane's attire a complete novelty, staring openly at her loose khaki trousers and three quarter top.  _ Jane _ thought she looked fine; the khakis were beige and the shirt was a simple, undecorated off white thing, and thick enough to cover the colour and shape of her bra. She figured it wasn't completely scandalous, and even if it was, how could they expect her to go digging around the forest in a floor-sweeping gown? Besides, being in a Lord of the Rings reality was unnerving enough. She needed something to ground her. 

But her confidence dissipated as soon as she entered the dining hall and saw Arwen. 

If Miluiel was pretty and sweet, Arwen was glowing. Her face looked the picture of innocence, and when she smiled, her eyes seemed to twinkle and laugh with her. Her hair was let loose down to her waist, and the gown she wore was a pretty blue, off the shoulder, with huge bell sleeves like the one on the gown Miluiel brought Jane. It was rather unfitted and loose, but somehow she didn't drown in it. 

 

Jane had to blink several times to make sure she was real, and then immediately suppressed the urge to scream at the absurdity of her situation.

"Please excuse my attire," she managed, trying to loosen her tense muscles. Was she ever going to get over the shock of this? "But it would be a shame to ruin a gown by digging around in the forest."

"No matter," Elrond said, eyeing her pants curiously. He was no less of a novelty to her than he had been the night before, and Jane had to remind herself not to stare. “We shall have some clothes fashioned in the style of your choosing.” He stood, and Arwen with him. "Please, allow me to introduce my daughter, Lady Arwen. Arwen, this is Lady Jane. Arwen is acquainted with the story of your arrival," Elrond added, motioning for Jane to sit. "My children, Glorfindel, Miluiel, and myself are the only ones who know the truth. In time, the rest of the household will come to know as well. From today onwards you may introduce yourself as my apprentice. That should abate further questioning."

"An apprentice of what, exactly?"

"My talent lies in healing," Elrond said. "To keep appearances, you must come to my study twice a week at least. During that time, we will discuss whatever progress you make in your studies, and I will give you all the information I can."

"No one's going to find it strange that I can only work bandages?" Jane asked doubtfully. 

"Worry not, Lady Jane," Arwen said, speaking for the first time. Like Miluiel, her voice was soft and light, but Arwen also spoke airily, her words running off like a gentle breeze. It was at once alluring and, at least to Jane, unusual. "For others rarely question wards of this house. You will have your own space, and will be free to come and go as you please from the archives and any other room that suits your purpose." She smiled as the servants entered the hall. "I hope your injuries are healing well?"

"Yes, thank you," Jane replied, eyeing the salads that were pouring in. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it right. "And I wanted to thank you as well, Lord Elrond, for helping me yesterday. Although I think I can skip the tonic tonight, it tasted foul." 

Elrond raised an amused brow in acknowledgement, but the food was set, so there was little talk for a time. 

At least until Jane wallowed and asked, "Sir? I just remembered -- what are we doing with my Jeep? It's still parked near the bridge."

"There are other paths leading into the city, from below," Elrond said. "However, I doubt your

Jeep will fit through the narrow passages."

Jane frowned. "We’re going to leave it there?"

“The guard have pushed it into the forest at present, to give it cover. Does it have anything of value inside?" 

"Well, no," Jane admitted. "And it's actually useless without the keys." Still, she didn't like the idea of just leaving the Jeep out there, away from the city. 

Elrond seemed to guess this, because he said, "We will try to move it to a more secure location outside the border. It would not do any good to raise suspicion. I will assemble a guard, if you like, to stand post."

Jane nodded. "I don't want it being accidentally discovered by anyone, or stolen."

"Very well, " he said. "As for your scheduled venture, I ask that you take Elladan and Elrohir with you."

"I would also like very much to hear of your discoveries, Lady Jane," Arwen said suddenly, ignoring the look Elrond gave her. "My father tells me you are a scholar in your time."

Jane coughed around a mouthful of lettuce. "I think scholar is a little much," she said mildly. "I only wrote one paper. But I'll tell you as much as you want." 

Arwen smiled. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Elladan and Elrohir were strange. It was the only way she could think to describe them, but she didn’t mean it in a rude way. Last night, she’d found them serious and refined, like Glorfindel, but when they took her to the forest they were more carefree and asked her questions openly. 

Jane couldn’t really remember much about the twins from the books. From what little she could recall, they were adventurous types, and not very present in the main storyline.  

Not that the twins didn’t have their uses. Apparently they could hear as far as half the forest and

see even farther than that over flat land. And they  _ did  _ help her scout her perimeter much faster than she would have if she were alone. 

“This means all the bridges open in a 20 meter diameter?” Elladan asked, peering at the notes she made.

“Not really. There have been smaller ones and then ones as big as 50. Mine might be smaller -- the trees and stuff were propelled with force.” She sighed. “I should’ve checked the reader more closely.”

Jane briefly flew over what she collected. The tree tops were accounted for, and nothing else had been brought with her. The reader was still dead, and she’d walked for almost half an hour in every direction to make sure. The only thing she could think to do was to rewind the display and go over the readings. Maybe come up with a way to measure the size of the holes more accurately – that would mean tampering with the sensory programming...

“Lady Jane?”

“Oh, sorry --”

“Will your Sector not be searching for you?”

“Oh,” she said again, noticing that both brothers were looking at her, “Er -- probably not. I’m not valuable enough to risk sending people through wormholes.”  _ Although that may no longer be true _ , she thought privately. If they found her, she’d have invaluable information...but still, the risk factor… 

Elrohir interrupted her. “They would leave you here?”

Jane shrugged, dismissing her thought. “I suppose. Unless they miraculously find a way to open holes spontaneously, but we’re years away from that kind of technology.”

“You seem rather unconcerned about this, my Lady. You are away from your home, your family, your people, with no sure way of getting back. Does this not trouble you at all?” 

_ Dig it in, why don’t you _ , Jane thought grouchily. Outwardly, she gave him a stiff smile. “I can’t say that being in this -- situation -- isn’t...strange. But I  _ was  _ trained for it. I study these kinds of things. And I  _ do  _ have a sure way of getting back.” She waved her reader at him to make her point.  

“But how will you track these bridges?” Elladan asked. “You said they don’t appear often.”

“Every time a bridge appears, there are warning signs. Gravity becomes...distorted, almost, in certain places. Not everywhere -- that’s key. Just in one specific place. If you can find the oddity, you can observe the way things move around it, the degree of distortion, and eventually you  _ should  _ be able to make predictions about where and when another will appear.”  _ Not that anyone’s been able to do that yet _ , she thought sourly. 

Elladan’s mouth dipped down, but Jane ignored him in favour of leafing through her notebook. “You know,”  she said casually, “It would help a lot if I knew  _ why  _ these bridges were opening. Also why it’s opening  _ here  _ of all places.”

“There we cannot help you,” Elladan said, his voice firmer than necessary. “Lord Elrond has already said---”

“Magic, I know. But hasn’t magic always existed in this...place? Why have you been separate all this time? What’s so special about right now?”

Elladan mulled this over, lifting his head skyward and away from her face. “There have been strange tidings of late, My Lady.” His voice was strangely heavy, a deep worry weaving its way around every syllable. “The Elves say…” 

“These are not words to be spoken in the open,” Elrohir said sharply, the briskness of his voice startling her. Elladan glanced briefly at his brother, not objecting when he continued. “There are a few explanations, but disclosing them without certainty would not be wise. We do not wish to derail your studies, Lady.”

“What we say may cause you to explore the wrong path,” Elladan supplied, noticing Jane’s furrowed brow. “It is best that you follow your instincts at present, and let us give our theories when we know them to be credible.”

Jane opened her mouth to argue, but Elladan beat her to it.

“What of your Jeep, Lady Jane? Lord Elrond said you wished to repair it. Do you know how?”

Jane wanted to fight back and argue, but she thought of the hesitation in Lord Elrond’s eyes, and the suspicion in Glorfindel’s the night before. Although she knew all of  _ them _ ,  _ they _ thought she was a stranger.  _ And they’re afraid _ , she realized. 

Which meant one thing – if she wanted information, she needed to be trusted.

So Jane relented for the time being. “The front of the Jeep is broken. I need to see a...blacksmith, I suppose. It’s made of steel.” She paused. “I should probably tell you – last night, I showed your father my voice recorder and parts of this journal. It may help your theories. You’re welcome to examine it in depth.”

Elrohir gave her a short nod.  “Aye, that would be wise.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“This is ridiculous,” Jane growled, ignoring the wary look the elven librarian gave her. Half of the scrolls in the archives were Elvish, and there was little to show for anything surrounding physics or the middle earth equivalent of wormholes. It was almost time for her to meet Miluiel and the most she’d gotten through was a brief history of the Ages. She wasn’t even close to learning about magic.  _ If only I’d bothered to read the damn Silmarillion _ , she thought darkly. 

Pushing the papers aside, Jane pulled a blank sheet and an quill towards her, holding it gingerly in her hand. They were more fragile than a sodding newborn child. She’d snapped seven of them in the past hour, something she knew the librarian wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon.

_ Focus _ , she told herself. If her language skills were going to be an issue, then she could at least do something else to get her bearings. 

The only hurdle here was that Jane didn’t really remember the timeline for  _ Lord of the Rings _ . Worse, she didn’t even know if this reality was going to follow a set timeline. Even more troubling was the fact that she was  _ in a story _ . Oh, and then there was the whole ‘magic’ thing, which -- what was she supposed to do with that? What did magic entail? Did it negate science? What did Gandalf and the wizards do, anyway, and could  _ they  _ open wormholes? 

It wasn’t like she could just  _ ask  _ Elrond. She wasn’t even supposed to know  _ what  _ a Gandalf was. 

_ Okay,  _ she thought, dropping the quill,  _ I’ve hit two roadblocks. Another option?  _

Jane wanted intel, and she wanted it fast. She thought back to her realization in the forest. She’d given them the notebook, but what else could she do? Simper, smile? Bake a cake? Wear their clothes? Or —- 

Her fingers stilled. She could become their friend, couldn’t she? Starting with Miluiel, the least suspecting. It would be simple; Jane would see her every day, and would ask things here and there while Miluiel did her hair or made her bed.  _ What is the power of the elves? Where are you from? Did you go to school? _ And later,  _ have you heard of any disappearances? What’s been going on in the world these past few months? Why is everyone afraid?  _ She could ask Elrond if she could learn Elvish when she met with him -- she could list her reason as wanting access to older archives, yes, but also to communicate with the other Elves and make herself blend in more. She could ask if  Arwen would teach her and build a relationship with his daughter. As for Elladan and Elrohir, she would have to convince them she wasn’t a threat. That meant no rash moves or lashing out...it wouldn’t be hard; she’d already played the damsel in distress last night. 

If she played her cards right, Elrond would let her in on whatever he was researching, and once Gandalf arrived, Elrond would tell him how useful and trustworthy Jane was, and there wouldn’t be a censorship of information.

She also had a tactical advantage, if she was being honest. She was a direct link to the British Government  _ and  _ the Sector investigating the wormholes. Middle Earth would be stupid not to exploit her. She could be a liaison and ensure that their needs and positions were communicated effectively...but to do that, she could argue she needed to actually  _ understand  _ what she was defending.

It turns out running a company  _ was  _ useful, after all. 

Satisfied, Jane began drawing a sketch of the Jeep’s bumper. Elladan and Elrohir had taken her to the forge earlier, and after a little bit of whispering and lots of gold, the blacksmith promised to keep his mouth shut and make whatever part she needed. Honestly speaking, Jane knew fixing the Jeep was pretty much useless. It wasn’t like she could use the thing around here, but still, it was a gift from her parents. 

Which was another thing. Her family would report her missing in a few days, and she didn’t know what lie the sector would tell them. Every day wasted was another day they were left in the dark. She thought grimly of the will she wrote, wondered how long the sector would go before declaring her dead. 

“Bad thought,” she murmured, labelling the distinctive parts of the bumper. Dwelling on it wouldn’t get her home faster. And again, if there was some evil dark lord wizard magic behind all of this…

Jane had thought about this endlessly. The rational part of herself was frustrated with Sauron as a solution. She was looking for a scientific explanation, not something out of  _ Thor _ . 

The more adaptable part of herself was uncannily open to this idea. It kept telling her,  _ you ended up in a story and you’re wondering if it's possible for an evil Wizard to magically open wormholes?  _ Jane supposed it had a point, but  _ that  _ solution left her with one big and scary realization: she had no idea what to do. How was anyone supposed to make a report out of that?  _ Yeah, Director, I’ve been through that wormhole and it’s actually a magical portal created by Voldemort’s distant cousin.  _

But at least now, she had a tangible plan. 

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Oh Miluiel, it’s lovely,” Jane said, her awe genuine. The gown was a deep maroon with gold embellishments on the hem and sleeves, and a pretty belt-like thing that rested on her hips. From her midsection, the belt extended downwards to her knees, made of the same golden patterns as the rest of the gown. The neckline was very modest, swooping down and resting a few inches above her sternum. Of course, the dress fell to her ankles, but the sleeves weren’t bells like on the dress Miluiel had brought earlier; instead, they hugged her wrists. In fact, the whole dress was rather fitted, nothing like the one Arwen had worn. 

“‘Tis an old gown,” Miluiel said softly, leading Jane to the vanity and letting her sit. “I noticed your clothes were much shapelier than ours. I believed you would like this one better.”

Jane smiled at her in the mirror. “I do, thank you.”

“As for your desire to wear pants, I can arrange for more suitable ones to be made for you before the end of the week.”

“Won’t you need money for that? I don’t--”

“Arrangements can be made by Lord Elrond, Lady.” 

“Miluiel, may I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

Jane bit her lip, considering her words carefully. “I know you know the truth about me...so you know I’m trying to do research about Middle Earth, and these bridge things.”

She waited for Miluiel’s nod in the mirror. 

“Well the thing is, most of the scrolls in the archives are written in Elvish. Even if I were to learn, it would take me ages to be proficient enough to read them -- but  _ you  _ can speak the language already. Would you be able to help me with it?” 

“You ask for my aid?” Miluiel asked, surprise evident in her tone. “But Lord Elrond can appoint --”

“I know,” Jane said hurriedly. “But it might get someone else involved in the matter. And anyhow, I see you everyday, and I sort of already know you...I just feel it would be easier and more -- comfortable.”

Miluiel frowned in the mirror. “But surely you wish for someone more knowledgeable to teach you?”

Now it was Jane’s turn to be surprised. “But I thought ---” she faltered, not wanting to seem rude. “Erm -- are you -- are you able to read?”

“Of course! What I meant to say is that my knowledge of history and magic pales in comparison to the knowledge of scholars.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t really  _ need  _ a scholar,” Jane lied. “Just someone to direct me in the library. And maybe to teach me how to use a quill?”

Miluiel mulled over this as she braided Jane’s hair into elaborate ropes. At last she said, “If you wish it, then yes. But I will try and find someone better versed in our history to help from time to time, if I may.”

Jane smiled. “Sure. But only someone who already knows about -- about me.”

Miluiel gave a satisfied nod in the mirror, pinning Jane’s braid up. “Is there anything else you wish for?”

“A work space, if possible. Somewhere private.”

“Very well, I will arrange such a place on the morrow. For now, Lord Elrond is waiting.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“You wish to learn Elvish?” Arwen asked, a note of surprise colouring her tone. “Truly?”

“I can’t do my research if I can’t understand what I’m reading,” Jane insisted. They were about half an hour into dinner, just starting their second course. Elladan and Elrohir had paused their eating at her enquiry, and were now watching their father curiously. As for Elrond, he was staring at his daughter. Looking between them quickly, Jane continued, “Having translators only solves part of the problem. And what kind of Ward can’t speak the region’s language?” 

“It seems you have given this much thought, Lady Jane,” Elrond said, turning to stare at her. “Are your interests in the archive the sole reason for your request?”

“Archives, appearances, practicality,” she replied steadily, setting down her fork. This was her chance to convince them -- if she couldn’t accomplish it now, she’d waste  _ weeks _ in the future asking the same question over and over.  “Sir, I’m sure you’ve realized that our two worlds are somehow connected. If I can understand this world, I can more readily protect mine.”

“And what of Arda?” Arwen murmured. Her voice was quiet, but Jane thought her eyes were rather sharp. “Are we to learn your tongue as well?”

Jane shrugged, silently weighing her answer. “I see no reason why the same protection can’t be offered to you. But my world has thousands of languages and I can only speak two of them.” 

“And how would your learning of Elvish protect us, Lady Jane?” Elrond asked, leaning back in his seat. “The languages of middle earth are also many.”

“Aren’t Elves the dominant power?” Jane asked, frowning in pretend confusion. “Or at least the most highly regarded? To establish such a link raises credibility, as shallow as it sounds. And at the very least, my research will come along much faster during my stay.”

“Learning a language is no easy feat. Elvish itself is -- ”

“I am aware, Sir, of the challenges ahead,” Jane said dryly. “Let me offer you this: if it’s too hard for me to pick up, my lessons can stop. I can consult either yourself or someone equally qualified every time I need something deciphered.”

She knew this was impractical -- Elrond couldn’t be translating texts all day, and keeping a possible translator in the dark about Jane’s situation was impossible. Elladan and Elrohir were obligated to perform their duties with the guard, and Arwen too. Even Miluiel had other responsibilities away from Jane. 

“The times allocated to your Elvish lessons could instead be used to make one of us available for translations,” Elladan mused. “Is that not more agreeable?”

But Jane had thought of this too. “It  _ seems  _ more practical,” she conceded. “But what if I need pages and pages of translations? And I’ll need them written out, too, so I can cross reference. It would take you hours, days maybe.” She looked back at Elrond. “I’m only asking to try.”

“Yes,” he said dryly. He regarded her for a moment and then sighed. “Very well. Arwen will oversee your lessons, and you may defer your questions to her. As for your current study of the archives --”

“I asked Miuliel to accompany me for now, and would prefer her over another translator, if you are agreeable. Sir,” she added, almost as an afterthought.

Elrond nodded without hesitation. “I am agreeable. When will you start?”

“In a few days, please. I want to get some other things in order and pinpoint the texts I need for now.”

“Of course. Now tell me, what did your findings from today reveal to you? Have you a plan to continue with?”

“All I was able to discern was the approximate size of the hole I came through. I can’t get any communication through, or detect anything with my current material. Oh, I also have Elladan and Elrohir my notebook,” she added. “When we meet for my ‘lessons’ we can discuss things you’d like clarification about. If I get access to your archives, I think it only fair for you to have the freedom to access mine.”

At this, Elladan and Elrohir exchanged veiled looks, but Jane ploughed on. “I have plans to tinker with the settings on my reader. I also have some basic experiments planned. I know you believe the bridges to appear from magic, but since we don’t have much information about that right now, I think it’s best for me to start with what I know. If everything goes as planned, then I should have some information gathered by the end of the month.” 

Arwen looked up from her plate. “So soon?”

“It’s a bit of an optimistic time frame,” Jane admitted. “But I won’t have anything else to do here.”

“You mentioned there may be others like you in Arda, Lady Jane?” Arwen asked. “Have you any ideas on how to reach them?”

The question sobered Jane’s triumph. She cast her eyes down towards the tablecloth and shook her head. “I wouldn’t know where to start. Like I told Lord Elrond, I only have a list of names with me. I don’t know what these people look like.”

“I would like you to give me these names, regardless,” Elrond said. “I can send word to our allies and search subtly for them. Once we know they reside in middle earth, we can discuss collecting them.”

“Where would you send them?” Jane asked, frowning. “Here, to Rivendell?”

“That will also be determined later. It would depend on their distance and how many are in one place.”

“We won’t be able to send them back until I figure out how to open wormholes,” Jane warned. “Wherever you send them, it should be somewhere capable of holding large amounts of people.”

“It can be arranged,” Elrond said confidently. “But you say that you are the only one from your organization who has passed through?”  
  
“The only one I _know_ of,” Jane amended. “But I know a lot. When I started, it was for low-scale investigations and research, mostly. I didn’t really know what was going on, but I kept getting promoted, and now I work more on reports and active investigating. If anyone on our side went missing, I’m sure I would’ve been notified.”

“It’s no matter,” Elrond said after a pause. “Is there anything else you require from Rivendell?”

“Transparency,” she said. “I know you don’t trust me entirely. I don’t expect you too, but please don’t keep anything from me. I know I won’t be keeping anything from  _ you _ . There’s too much at risk right now, and I’m a little out of my depth with ‘magic’. Can we agree on that?”

All four Elves exchanged glances with one another. Jane waited, meeting each of their eyes in turn.

Finally, Arwen raised her goblet and nodded. 

“So be it,” Elrond murmured, glancing from his daughter to Jane, and finally to his sons. “It seems a new age is upon us.”

Jane frowned at his choice of words, but Arwen turned to her and enquired after the books they’d found in her bags, and everything else was forgotten. 

 

xxxxxxxxxxx  
  


In the light of the moon, hours later, Arwen approached her father in his office, her face shuttered, shoulders stiff. 

“Ada,” she said, stopping a few feet from him. She bowed her head. “You wished to see me?”

If Elrond heard her, he made no indication. He stood very still, looking out at the waterfall beyond his window.  

Arwen glanced away, unsurprised. It was her father’s nature to drag out conversations, and lately the ones they had were under particular strain. She had an inkling as to what he wished to discuss, but it was better for him to ask the questions, and for her to reply. 

She let her eyes roam around the study, falling here and there, resting on the stack of scrolls piled on her father’s desk. Still waiting for his reply, she walked over and began leafing through them, skimming over the ancient titles, recognizing texts she’d seen in Lothlorien. 

_ A History of Elven Magic _ , read one title. Beside it,  _ The Rise and Fall of Morgoth and the Beginning and end of the Dark Age.  _ And then some feet away from it, a book. It was large, and very strange; its cover was unlike anything she’d seen before. It looked as though it had been painted on, and was covered in a very close up picture of the mountains, instead of being plain. It seemed to be made of something much thinner than scroll paper. But its title was familiar to her:  _ The Lord of the Rings _ . On the bottom of the cover, there was a small inscription:  _ 75th Anniversary Edition _ . 

It was extremely thick, and its paper was a startling white, and even thinner than its cover page. In big, white letters, the name  _ J.R.R Tolkien  _ was plastered across the top. 

Curious, she opened the book midway -- only to find it blank. Arwen frowned and picked the volume up, flipping pages at random. But they were all the same -- untouched, not even a faint mark on the crisp pages.  _ Perhaps a journal _ , she thought to herself, but it didn’t seem right; the book was too large and heavy to be carried around, and besides, it looked nothing like the journals the Elves made. 

Her father’s voice broke the silence suddenly, and when she turned to look at him, he’d moved away from the window and was looking at her expectantly. “Do you recognize it?” 

“The title, certainly,” she replied, looking at him curiously. “But neither the book nor its maker. Where did you find this?” 

“It appeared shortly after Lady Jane arrived last night. On my desk.”

“You think she put it here?”

Her father shook his head, looking worried. Arwen placed the book back on the table, concerned. Her father didn’t show his unease easily -- wherever his train of thought was going, it wasn’t good. “It appeared after she left. It was quite sudden; I turned to put away some papers, and when I turned again it was there.”

“But Ada,” she said slowly, her own mind racing to connect the dots. He wouldn’t have called her here in the dead of night to discuss a book, if it wasn’t urgent. “Why does it worry you? It is an empty book -- it’s quite harmless.”

Elrond’s mouth turned down at the corners. “Whether it is harmless or not remains to be determined,” he said. “The title is familiar to us -- the book should recount the history of the Ring, and Sauron’s rise to power. Yet the book itself is odd. I would have thought nothing of it, had I not seen the books Lady Jane had in her bag.”

“You mean the poetry books you spoke of?” Arwen asked. She hadn’t seen Lady Jane’s belongings herself, but her brothers had told her everything they could, and they’d had a lengthy discussion about them at dinner. “You mean to say this book is from her world?”

“Indeed...but if that is the case --”

“Why would they have a book on our history, if the two worlds are seperate,” Arwen finished, finally understanding her father’s worry. “This name -- is it the author?”

“I believe so. His name is completely unfamiliar to me, but I was wondering if you had heard it.” 

Arwen shook her head, knowing what he was hinting. “You put too much faith in my dreams,” she murmured. “Know they are half hidden, because they are dreams that show places beyond the borders of this world. I cannot understand all that happens in them.” 

“Still,” her father said, his voice pensieve. “I believe the two to be connected in some way...I wonder if Lady Jane would be able to explain this.”

“You still don’t trust her,” Arwen guessed, watching her father hesitate. She couldn’t blame him; there were too many strange things happening, and most of them included Lady Jane. But still, they had anticipated her arrival, and Arwen herself had seen that the woman would play an important role in the fate of their world, be it for good or ill. If they wanted her on their side, they would need her to trust them, and she had to be trusted in return.  “Even after everything I saw?”

“What you saw was a small glimpse of a possible path,” he said, perhaps for the thousandth time. Arwen bit back her reply. He was right, she knew; Arwen’s dreams were often one-sided, but deep down she knew they were always  _ right _ . “In any case,” Elrond continued, “This book is from her world, I am sure of it. And she has said nothing about the Ring --”

“Perhaps she doesn’t know of it,” Arwen suggested, cutting him off. “There are thousands of books in Arda also, Ada. You cannot have read all of them. How can we expect  _ her _ to have read this particular book?”

“The coincidence is too great,” Elrond insisted, moving closer to her. “Your dreams, these bridges she speaks of, Mithrandir’s news, Estel’s tracking of the creature Gollum, Bilbo’s arrival, and how her…and this book.”

“But how did the book come here in the first place?” Arwen asked. “It cannot have appeared from nowhere, and you said yourself Lady Jane could not have placed it; it wasn’t in her bag, and it’s  _ not _ of Middle Earth, so one of our household cannot have placed it.” 

At this, her father’s gaze became clouded, and he looked away from her. Alarm flashed briefly in her heart, but she pushed it down and touched his arm. “Ada?” She asked tentatively. 

“There are strange things at work,” her father muttered, which did nothing to soothe her. “I know not how the book appeared, but you know the magic of this world. Something cannot appear from nothing.”

“You mean -- the book already existed in this world?”

“Perhaps,” her father replied. But there was a frown on his face. “Or perhaps it was brought here by the bridges Lady Jane speaks of.”

“You may simply ask her,” Arwen said, knowing the thought would be immediately dismissed by him. “Whatever you may think of her, I believe her to be on our side. I know my dreams come in halves sometimes, and I cannot see the prices paid to gain the future, but no matter how many paths are shown to me,  _ she _ is always there. Sometimes she fights with Estel, sometimes away from him...and the Elvenking’s son is there also. We cannot avoid her.” 

“I plan to ask her eventually,” her father said, acknowledging her words with a nod. “But not now. I wish to observe her first, and find out what she knows; if her actions and words are genuine...you will assist me in this, of course.”

“Of course,” Arwen echoed. It had been her plan all along, and now with the opportunity to oversee the Lady’s lessons, speaking to her would be easier. “But I assume there are things you wish for me not to speak of?”

“What you speak of is yours to decide,” her father said. There was a twinkle in his eyes. “You are a child no longer. You understand the world, Arwen. You have spent many years with the Lady Galadriel, learning Elven magic, and you know your own mind better than I. I only ask you to court caution, and speak as little of the Ring as possible, until the time comes. I give my trust to you.” 

The words were heavy, but her father’s tone was light and genuine, and lessened the burden on her shoulders. But only just. 

“I am afraid to err,” she admitted, looking away from his steady gaze. She had learned much from Lorien and her time with the Lady Galadriel, but always her answers had been double checked and counselled by those older and wiser than she. “The world is at risk. It is...difficult to know what is right and wrong.”

“Your heart is right,” her father said, gently turning her face toward him. His face was still smooth and untarnished, but she could see the ages pass in his eyes. Memories of things both beautiful and sad, and so many emotions, even ones she recognized but hadn’t yet felt. Eventually his expression settled into tenderness, into a look he had given her throughout her childhood, when she was young enough to play recklessly with her brothers and cause mischief in her father’s halls.  Gently, he told her, “Your judgement has always been sound. And you are not alone.”

xxxxxxxxxxxx  
  


On the other side of the residence quarters, in the West Wing, Jane walked, trance-like, to the bags that had been neatly set on the foot of her bed, and hoisted them gently onto the desk near her window. 

Dinner had gone well, she thought. All her demands had been met. She’d made a plan and had even begun her work on the reader when she got back to her rooms. Even better -- she’d been right about the multiverse theory,  _ and _ she was in the best possible place to collect intel for the government. She’d likely make history, if she ever managed to get back. 

As she pulled out her belongings, a small package fell out from between two pairs of pants. Jane recognized it immediately -- it was a little brown bag, the kind you got at Pandora when you bought jewellery. She’d been wearing the necklace inside it before she’d gone to work, but took it off in the car. It was a very special necklace; she didn’t like wearing it on a job that involved mortal peril.

She opened the bag and pulled out the chain, feeling a little guilty that she’d forgotten it until now. It hadn’t exactly been forefront in her mind, what with the almost dying and suddenly having to believe elves were real, but the necklace had been a 21st birthday gift from her parents. It had a simple pendant, less than a couple of centimeters, made of gold and put on a thin chain. She unclasped it and fumbled for a few minutes in the dark, but managed to secure it around her neck. 

The cool, hard feeling of the metal soothed her a little, even in the deep silence that filled the room. Jane touched the pendant briefly, then shook herself and began going through the bags once more. There was no point brooding about her current situation, anyhow. It took time away from her actually sitting down and finding a solution. 

After she finished pulling her clothes from the bag, she took out her toiletries: her hairbrush, cream, combs; she even found a few sticks of deodorant at the bottom, and laid them neatly on her side table. Next she found her pad packets and medicine, wincing internally at the thought of going through her period in a place that had outhouses as a form of public restrooms. She figured it was a small price to pay for the discovery of an alternate universe...but _ still.  _

There was going to be a lot of things to get used to, she knew. Living completely away and cut off from her family. Wearing dresses. Staring at pointy-eared people. Meeting Hobbits -- she’d find Bilbo eventually, but maybe not for another week. She could only take one shock at a time...and she supposed that she’d also meet Aragorn and the others...even Legolas -- 

Jane suppressed a hysterical giggle and sat at the edge of her bed, breathing deeply.  _ No mental breakdowns _ , she told herself firmly.  _ This is going to be an adventure. You’re going to live your childhood dream _ . If anything, she could think of this as a temporary illusion -- eventually she’d make it back home, and put the whole thing behind her. She’d go back to work. Write some amazing papers....win a Nobel Prize, maybe. There were lots of good things to come, if she could hang in there. And she still had her faint understanding of Middle Earth from Tolkien’s books, which was better than starting with a clean slate. 

Only….her eyes drifted again to the bag that held the twins’ gifts. She thought of her friends, Jack and Sophia, who would show up in the evening with a cake and vodka, probably, to have a second birthday party, only to find Jane missing.  _ As long as they don’t find out about this _ , she thought to herself.  _ It’s much too dangerous _ . She’d hidden all her work documents pretty well; they were under the loose floorboards of her  bed. Not even Jack knew they existed. 

It was a small comfort, but it made her feel a little better.

Jane stood again and pulled out the last of her packing -- the set of books: Neruda, Eliot, and a mixed poetic volume, along with her journal. She flipped to the last few pages, reading the list of missing persons the Sector had given her. 

Amber Bevan, 30

Louise Roland, 17

John Driscoll, 40

Marco Bonasaccio, 23

Don Brown, 55

Aneesah Berry,  35

Sara Selam, 33

Denise Beckinsdale, 18

Terry Fischer, 41

Luana Ross, 36

 

The list went on for two pages, with people ranging from 83 years to the youngest, Padma Stanislaus, 14. Jane closed her eyes, her heart clenching. If  _ she  _ found all of this odd and disorienting, how would a 14 year old react? And soon it would be children as young as 5 or 6, ripped apart from their parents, thrust into some unknown world. They’d be homeless, or worse…

Jane shivered in the dark. Elrond was right; everything was changing.


End file.
